Transmigrated into a lewd little pervert, the crazy boss's kiss made his legs weak.

Ling Che's hand froze in mid-air, his expression visibly frozen.

"What did you say?"

"Hey... what perfume are you wearing? It smells like toilet cleaner."

Li Yaoyao's heartfelt and genuine feelings.

"How could Shen Qiongluo possibly fall for someone as filthy as you? She's so beautiful, how could her taste be so bad, picking a boyfriend from a trash can?"

"you--"

"What do you mean, 'you'?"

"I didn't hold it against you for touching me inappropriately at the karaoke bar, but you really think you're something special?"

Li Yaoyao used the mop handle to push away his hands that were braced against the wall, freeing herself from the suffocating shadow beneath him.

"Excuse me, I still need to mop the floor. If you need to use the restroom, go inside; otherwise, leave."

Ling Che's expression changed several times.

Finally, the image settled on a ferocious, offended rage.

But he didn't have time to react.

A companion's urging voice came from the other end of the corridor.

Someone shouted, "Young Master Ling, the booth seating is ready. Don't keep President Wang waiting."

Ling Che gritted his teeth and pointed two dots in the direction of Li Yaoyao with his finger.

You just wait!

Then he turned and strode away.

Li Yaoyao leaned against the wall, panting heavily.

My legs started to feel weak.

"Waaah," she thought to herself, "did I just break character?"

It crashed.

[...but it was pretty satisfying to see it collapse.]

Li Yaoyao smiled.

Then he went into the inner room to wash the mop.

At the corner of the corridor outside the restroom, a tall and slender figure stood quietly.

The light shone down from above, casting a half-shadow on her cool and beautiful face.

Shen Qiongluo.

She didn't know how long she had been standing there.

She wore light makeup tonight and a smoky gray slip dress, her collarbones looking like two delicate arcs under the light.

She's so beautiful, like she stepped right out of a magazine cover.

But at that moment, she covered her mouth with one hand, her nails digging into her palm.

It turns out that Li Yaoyao wasn't lying to her.

Shen Qionglu thought that what Li Yaoyao said on the basketball court that day was a frame-up, a hysterical episode of a stalker.

But Ling Che said it himself just now.

I still remember the feel of that touch at the KTV.

Every word was like a slap in the face, landing squarely on her cheek.

That's why Li Yaoyao always tried to smooth things over before...

Those foolish, pretentious performances that became a laughing stock...

What was the purpose of it all?

Shen Qiongluo dared not think further.

Perhaps Li Yaoyao was using that clumsy, almost self-destructive way to make her see just how rotten the thing next to her really was.

She took out her phone and tapped on Ling Che's profile picture.

He typed two words: "Break up".

Then block and delete, all in one smooth motion.

After doing all this, Shen Qiongluo threw her phone back into her bag and turned to walk towards the main entrance of the club.

She still walked with an upright posture, and her high heels clicked crisply on the ground.

She desperately needs a man to help her get back into the throes of love after her breakup.

Pushing open the copper-framed glass door of Yujingtai, a night breeze rushes in, carrying the sultry heat of early summer and the faint fragrance of gardenias in the distance.

Shen Qiongluo stood on the steps and closed her eyes.

Then she saw the car.

The black Maybach was parked quietly in front of the porch.

This type of car is not uncommon in Beijing; many people in the wealthy second-generation circle drive them.

But to be able to drive this car, which is so composed it's almost old-fashioned, with such an arrogant aura...

She had only ever seen this one.

The car door opened.

First came a pair of black Oxford shoes, then long legs encased in suit trousers, and then the person stepped out of the car.

He rolled up the cuffs of his black shirt to mid-forearm, walked around to the front of the car, pinched the car keys between his thumb and middle finger, and flicked his wrist.

The key traced a clean parabola in the air and landed precisely in the palms of the doorman's hands.

They didn't even glance at the doorman the entire time.

Shen Qiongluo stood three steps away, blocking his path as he entered.

She is Shen Qiongluo.

She is the undisputed campus belle of the capital city university.

In the half hour I've been sitting in the booth area of ​​Yujingtai tonight, no fewer than ten people have tried to strike up a conversation with me.

She's used to being the center of attention wherever she goes.

She was used to the expressions of amazement, greed, or nervousness that every man gave her when he looked at her.

But this man, from the moment he got out of the car until he entered the door, every time his gaze swept over her.

It's no different from sweeping over a lamppost.

He didn't even realize there was a living person standing there.

Shen Qiongluo stood there, staring at the figure that disappeared behind the revolving door.

His fingers slowly tightened around the bag strap.

Those legs were too long, that waist too narrow, that face too cold.

He walks with a nonchalant, lazy air.

That was awesome!

This exceptional woman is the only one worthy of her.

She turned around, pushed open the clubhouse door, and walked straight to the front desk.

Manager Sun was standing behind the counter flipping through the reservation book when he looked up and saw Shen Qiongluo walk in.

His expression instantly switched from businesslike to obsequious.

A stunningly beautiful woman approaching him was a rare occurrence in his career; each such encounter represented a business opportunity.

"Who was that person who just went in?" Shen Qiongluo asked bluntly.

Manager Sun glanced in the direction of the private rooms, following her gaze, and smiled.

That smile carried a knowing ambiguity, as if to say: yet another one.

"Is this your first time here, beautiful lady?"

He closed the reservation book, lowered his voice, and spoke with a hint of arrogance.

"That's a regular here, the famous Qi family from the capital, have you heard of them? The one with an unfathomable background... Qi Yuge."

"A dissolute young master who doesn't care about his reputation, he's wild and extravagant, and no one in the entire capital dares to steal his thunder."

He paused, then added a sentence, his tone carrying the感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of deep emotion or reflection) of someone who had been through it all.

"But this kind of guy is just someone to look at; most people can't handle him."

As Shen Qiongluo listened, a slow smile curved her lips.

"Manager," she said, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, "do you still hire part-time workers?"

Manager Sun was taken aback for a moment, then his face lit up with a smile.

If this beautiful woman were to come to work, she could attract customers simply by standing in the lobby.

If Young Master Qi really takes a liking to you, you might even win the heart of your beauty.

He also gets some benefits from being the matchmaker.

It's a win-win-win situation; even if it's not perfect, you have to admit it is.

"Yes, yes, yes! We're always short-staffed! What does this beautiful lady want to do? Salary is negotiable..."

That evening, Li Yaoyao received the notification.

Someone else took over the job of serving tea and water in the lobby, so she could stay in the restroom with peace of mind.

Of course, she didn't know who was taking her place.

All she knows is that there's less work, but the salary is the same—it's practically the ultimate dream job for someone with social anxiety!

*

Another day of spending a lot of money on trivial matters.

She calmly placed the "Cleaning in Progress" sign at the entrance of the men's restroom.

I picked up the mop and went inside, humming an off-key song.

She squatted in the cubicle, huffing and puffing as she dragged the limescale out of the grout lines in the floor tiles.

His butt was sticking out.

no way.

The cubicles are too small; you can't reach the corners inside to mop the floor without bending over.

Her round figure was wrapped in loose, dark work pants, which moved around in the dim light.

Like a hamster that has crawled into a narrow hole, it is only concerned with its own tail.

As they were being led to the last cubicle, footsteps could be heard outside the door.

Unsteady footsteps.

The soles of leather shoes tapped rhythmically on the marble floor.

Before Li Yaoyao could turn around, a black figure rushed in.

Qi Yuge drank quite a bit.

Three buttons were undone at the collar of her shirt, revealing a small patch of her collarbone and a thin silver chain.

The alcohol burned the corners of his eyes, making them appear slightly red.

He casually loosened his collar and took two steps toward the sink, but then his peripheral vision caught something.

Then it paused.

At the door of the cubicle, a figure wrapped up tightly was bending over, wiping the floor.

That inappropriate, untimely, and captivating curve that shouldn't be seen in this place...

Directly in his direction.

He squinted.

Alcohol slows down the brain's reaction time, but the body's reaction time is never slow.

A wave of heat made his throat dry.

He didn't care whether the person in front of him was a man or a woman, a cleaner or a customer.

He took two steps forward, lifted his shirt, and loosened his belt.

His voice, tinged with a hint of huskiness and an undeniable languor, was slurred by intoxication.

"come over."

Li Yaoyao's back instantly stiffened into a solid plate.

"Help me get up."